Moineau Rouge V

Moineau Rouge V

Sometimes lies are so casual, and so difficult to distinguish from the truth that they blend in seamlessly and add to a picture that had already begun to monopolize the dissonance that made up the world. Other lies however are less insidious. They are far too obvious and the truth that they obscure is still laid bare before all of our eyes.

I remember Ana's words, "It doesn't matter anyway."
"How can you say that" Marie replied.

The two girls were sitting down in the cafe, what were they talking about? Marie smiled, "Life does matter, more than you know, perhaps there is no greater meaning in the universe, perhaps there is, that is not important. Our lives are given meaning by the impact they make on so many others. The good we can do, and even the mistakes we make. All f these little things make up a greater picture. One in which we can have real beautiful and meaningful lives even in a world as lost as this. Lost, not over. This world still has so much left in it, and there is so many good deeds we can do to make it a better place!"

Ana stared for a moment and spoke, "Maybe I don't care to make it a better place, maybe I don't care about the world or anyone at all. They are all going to die, they are all going to leave! So what difference does it make? The world is going to fall apart, and there isn't anything we can really do for it, even if it did matter!"

Mat stared blankly into his coffee, at a loss for words as his love continued to spout off nihilism. As she slipped farther into her own abyss. Maybe he should have shown her some warmth, maybe this moment would have been one in which to assert himself, but he just sat there. Sipping his black coffee, and letting Ana slip away.

Marie looked a bit said and spoke, "No, Ana, that's not it at all. You have people who love you, and need you more than anyone else. Think of how lost Mathieu would be without you? Or how much your brother needs someone to care for him."

Mathieu looked up hearing his name and looked at both women staring back at him, both wanting him to validate them in some way. Marie wanted Mat to assure Ana of his love, of his need for her. And Ana just wanted him to be philosophical, to feed her nihilism to vindicate her point that nothing mattered. And nothing really did, because all he could manage to say was, "I'm hung over, Marie could you get me some more coffee?"
And she got up and went to the kitchen and Ana looked at him a little longer than looked away. She stood up and looked out the window, "I think I need some fresh air." She wanted company, but Mat was only thinking of his pounding head. He was only thinking of a mess of dishes he still had to do. So he watched her walk out that door. Alone. Needing him to be there, he wasn't. Needing something more than passivity.

And I still look out that window sometimes, wondering where she went that day. Wondering why she needed me so badly. And of course regretting my foolishness. Regretting my callousness. Regretting my absence and selfishness. Maybe me and Jean died a long time ago. And maybe, just maybe, this cafe is hell. It is the hell we have been sent to for our mistakes and failures.

A hell where I can remember my missteps, but not make amends. A hell where all light is banished from our lives and any hopes of warmth evaporate away. We freeze because we lost the fight. We shiver because the fires that once burnt so intensely in our hearts have now burnt out.

So there I was with my cup of black coffee. And here I am with my bottle of cheap wine. The lights are dim. Jean is passed out, face down on the table. And I question my lot in the universe only the way a hardened criminal might. I've been condemned for crimes I am guilty of. However is there no force that has even considered me for parole?

And if not, how long is forever? How long will me and Jean rot and decay. Trapped in this cafe. In which our hopes have evaporated into the air creating a toxic smoke which imbues our days with more regret. And we are left with an all too obvious reflection. The emptiness of these bottles, the emptiness of our souls.

And tomorrow will be no different.